Taste: A Love Story (26 page)

Logan stood there struck dumb with surprise. He’d known Winnie Parker and he had even learned bits and pieces of Kara Malendar, but the woman wringing her hands as she shared herself was something altogether more. Winnie’s joy and energy mixed with the insight and maturity of Kara Malendar. All of that sprinkled with a need to connect, create. It was staggering and all Logan could do was continue drinking her in. He turned back to her work counter, needing some relief from the intensity. He needed to hear her laugh.

“Is that a welder?” he asked raising and lowering his eyebrows.

And there it was, her laughter filled the studio.

“It is. The smaller one is a soldering gun. I use both of them for my pieces.”

“Yeah, you do. Do you wear tiny shorts while you’re welding, because my teenage mind remembers a poster with that exact image.”

She laughed harder and Logan felt the world right.

“No tiny shorts.”

Logan snapped his fingers in feigned disappointment. He finished his self-tour of her space, was surprised to see
Moby Dick
on her bookshelf and even more surprised when she mentioned it was one of her favorites.

“I loved your lamps the minute I saw them.” He sat down in the big armchair under the window near her books. “Did you see it in the restaurant?”

“I did.” Kara dropped down on the floral couch across from him.

“And you didn’t say anything.”

“What did you want me to say? I don’t advertise what I do, Logan. The fact that you happened to buy one of my lamps—that it spoke to you—was wonderful. There was nothing for me to say.”

Logan shrugged in agreement. She had a point.

“I was incredibly flattered when I saw it,” she added with a smile.

“Oh, yeah?” He joined her on the couch.

“Yeah.”

“So, the name Winnie? Where does that come from?”

Kara smiled. “My Nana’s name.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Hey, was that R. Kelly I heard when I came in?”

Kara smiled as he turned to face her.

“It was. I’m a pretty big R. Kelly fan.”

“Really?”

“No, not really, just that song, ‘Ignition.’” She rolled her hands in a steering wheel motion, “Toot toot, beep beep. It’s one of the songs on my Roll That Body playlist.”

“Okay, any chance we can listen to the rest of that playlist?”

Kara laughed, leaning into him.

“My God, look at you.” Logan suddenly grew serious.

She put her hands to her hair, eyes wandering to her silky pants with purple-and-orange swirls. Her feet were bare, hair piled at her neck with a pencil. “What?”

Logan reached forward and ran his finger along the strap of a tank top peeking out at the neckline of her oversized sweater.

“You’re beautiful,” fell out of his mouth before he had time to remind himself women were nothing but trouble.

Kara smiled. “Actually, I’m not classically beautiful. According to my mother’s stylist, my eyes are too big for my face, my nose slants to the right, and don’t get him started on my feet.” Kara lifted her foot up like a toddler.

He slid his hands around her waist, pulled her into him, and held. Logan enjoyed sex as much as the next guy, but everything that went with it was almost as good. Every time her body met his after they’d been apart for a while, the feel of their connection was something that never got old.

“You, the whole of you in this space. You’re playful, comfortable. This is who you are when no one is looking. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re pretty beautiful too.” She touched her nose to his.

“Yeah? How’s my nose?”

She kissed it on the tip. “It’s cute.”

“Cute, huh?”

Kara nodded and Logan kissed her.

Chapter Twenty-Three

E
loise chased after the cat with two of her party guests as Kara helped clean up the wrapping paper from her birthday party. Jake and Cotton had a beautiful home in the bungalow district that they restored from the ground up.

“Can you believe my mother actually came to a party? And she was somewhat civil.” Kara sat in one of the kitchen chairs.

“Gay is in now, honey, I’m sure Momma Malendar plays up her daughter’s gay best friend every chance she gets.” Jake rinsed off plates and put them in the dishwasher.

Kara had never thought of it that way, nor had she heard Jake say it quite like that. “So that’s what our relationship is? You’re a trendy accessory?” Her tone was serious and Jake shut the water off and turned to face her.

“Oh blazes, cut it out, of course not. I’m not even talking about us in private. I’m just saying it’s a convenient benefit and that way it’s . . .” Jake had talked himself into a corner.

Kara had seen him do it before and she recognized the look. “What? That way it’s what?” she asked.

“Allowed.” Jake touched her arm. “That’s what I was going to say, but that’s not exactly—”

“Allowed? I’m allowed? Is that what you think?”

Jake shook his head, but Kara knew that was exactly what he thought.

“I’m an adult, Jake. I do what I want.”

“I know you do, of course you do.”

“Oh my God! You think I’m a puppet. That I’m . . . them?”

“Honey, settle down, that’s not what I said.”

“Please don’t bullshit me. You never have, let’s not start this now.”

“All I’m saying is you follow protocol with your parents. I understand why, and I’m not judging. I get it.”

“And if gay wasn’t in?” Kara asked.

“Our friendship would be harder. Kara, come on. There’s an image to uphold. This isn’t anything new. I’m relieved your mother likes me and that your father finds value in our friendship.”

“Jake! Jesus!”

“What? I’m not saying we wouldn’t be friends. We might just have to closet it up like . . . well, like the rest of you.”

Kara felt the cold punch of honesty. Jake had dealt it many times before, but this one stung a little more.

“Your real laugh, your color, your glass, you, Kara. We both know that you don’t let that you out very often.”

“I’m just private.”

“I know and I understand that, but you’ve mastered hiding the best parts of yourself. I’ve gotten to see them and I’m not saying you’re only friends with me because your parents like me.”

“Good.” Kara found herself a little defensive as Eloise came running into the kitchen. Jake quickly changed the subject and they settled back into the festivities.

Driving home, Kara knew he was right, but knowing something and doing something about it were two very different things. She had been hiding for so long, she wasn’t sure how to be found. By the time she pulled into her driveway, she had replayed the last time she’d done anything completely spontaneous without thinking. Maybe it was time for some spontaneity; it was certainly time for less thinking. She sat in her car and with the help of her mother’s always present, always annoying, voice in her head, Kara ran through all of the reasons why what she was about to do was a massive mistake. She kicked her mother out of her thoughts and backed out of her driveway on her way to being found.

It had been a good night. They sold out their tasting menu for Restaurant Week, received endless compliments on the carpaccio, and all tables were full until almost 10:30. Logan and Travis were exhausted. Makenna’s face hurt from smiling and if she gave out their social media information one more time, she told Logan, she was sure she would run screaming into the parking lot. Sage cut her finger about two hours into the night, but now there was so much lime juice in, it was numb. Doors locked, they all helped clean up.

“Did you see the guy at table four who kept stuffing bread into his wife’s purse? It was like one of those weird couples on
The Love Boat
.” Makenna leaned on the broom.

Logan and Sage stared at her, expressionless.

“What? Don’t you guys have Hulu? Paige and I watch
The Love Boat
all the time.”

They both shook their heads.

“You guys suck. I can’t help it if my single-mother life isn’t exciting.” Makenna swept under the bar tables. “And if I’m not up to my boot in chicken shit, I’m in the shower or at a PTA meeting or here. When am I supposed to become exciting?”

“Speaking of exciting, did you see the guy sitting at the bar alone during happy hour? Black sweater?” Sage asked while she rehung the glasses behind the bar.

“Oh, yes I did. He was hot. It’s been so damn long.” Makenna leaned up against the bar. “I’m so tired, and I really need to shave my legs, but good God, yes, I thought he was lovely.”

“Me too,” Sage hummed in agreement.

Logan looked up from rolling silverware.

“Ladies, did you two want be alone?” He laughed.

“Oh, shut up,” Sage said, “it’s so much easier for men.”

“Really? How do you figure that?” he asked.

“If a man wants to get laid, he just goes to a bar and picks someone.” Sage wiped down the back bar.

“Yeah, if a woman does that she’s a slut, but a man picks up a woman and sleeps with her, doesn’t even need to know her name, and he’s a damn hero,” Makenna chimed in.

“You know, I was in the back, doing all the work”—Travis pushed through the door from the back kitchen—“and I heard parts of this conversation. Was someone talking about me?”

“We were discussing man-whores, so yes, Travis you fit that category.” Makenna swept into the dustpan and slid past him to empty it.

“Man-whore is a harsh label, Ken. I prefer being called a field researcher.”

Logan shook his head as he gathered up the rolled silverware and brought it to the server’s station.

“You’re going to want to back away slowly.” He passed Travis. “You’re outnumbered.”

“Nah, these ladies love me.”

Sage threw a towel in his face and Makenna laughed.

“Oh, and now on top of everything else I’m running around doing things half-assed, Paige tells me yesterday no one makes lunch like Uncle Rogan.” Makenna put away the broom as Logan came back into the bar.

“That’s my girl. Great memory too, I mean, when was the last time I made her lunch?”

“What are you talking about? You make her lunch at least two or three times a week. Every time I forget her lunch box here, the next morning it always has what she’s now calling ‘a gourmet lunch’ in it. So, thanks for that.”

“Kenna, I’m not making Paige’s lunch. You do forget her lunch box all the time, but I haven’t been putting anything in it. I just assumed you picked something up on those mornings.”

Makenna sat down on one of the barstools. Sage was now cleaning out her fruit and olive bins and Travis had gone back into the kitchen.

“Let me get this straight. You’re not filling Paige’s lunch box with sandwiches made on homemade bread and giving her some kind of fruit salad she talks about nonstop? You’re not responsible for why my daughter now makes me buy hummus?”

Logan shook his head, trying to replay some of those hectic mornings.

“Well, then who the hell is?” Makenna asked.

At that moment, Travis came out of the kitchen holding his bag and helmet.

“We’re all good back there. If you don’t need me for anything, I’m gonna take off.” He rounded the bar.

Makenna was still dumbfounded, but Logan figured it out as soon as he saw Travis making his getaway.

“He is.” Logan was just as shocked as his sister was about to be.

“What?” Disbelief hit her eyes.

“Travis—he’s making Paige’s lunch.”

She laughed. As Travis walked past her toward the door, Logan nodded to his sister.

“Wait,” Makenna said and Travis stopped just short of his escape. She walked over and stepped between him and the door.

“Is that true? You make Paige’s lunch?”

Travis smiled and Logan could see him trying for casual, but it was no use. Douche bags didn’t make lunch to help out frazzled single moms. Man-whores didn’t make fruit salad complete with heart-shaped strawberries for little girls to brag about at the lunch table.

“It’s not a big deal. Sometimes I notice you forget her lunch box. Instead of leaving it hanging around, I throw a sandwich in it, save you a trip in the morning.” He moved to go around Kenna who was still dumbstruck.

She tilted her head up because Travis was almost the size of two of her. Sage and Logan were both silent, like they were watching two animals on one of those National Geographic shows Paige loved so much.

Makenna watched him, seemingly trying to figure him out, and then she went up on her tiptoes, leaned her hand on his chest, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you.”

Logan could see Travis’s chest moving in and out, but other than that, there were no signs of life.

“Now that you’ve spoiled her, she’s instructed me to forget her lunch box every night after school.” Makenna’s voice was soft, almost gentle.

The whole scene was a bit surreal.

“You’re welcome, and let Paige know I’m taking special requests,” Travis finally said.

Makenna laughed. “Oh, you are in big trouble now.”

Travis’s face warmed, and Logan wasn’t sure why it didn’t make him uncomfortable to have his best friend locked on his sister that way, but it didn’t. The energy between the two felt genuine, so real, that Sage literally sighed and rested her arms on her bar.